


Winter in Baker Street

by Small_Hobbit



Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Christmas, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 17:38:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12893280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: When Holmes plan doesn't work out quite as expected, he is forced to make some changes.





	1. A Living Nativity

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Watson's Woes WAdvent Open Days

As we entered the church that evening Holmes was of the opinion the case was solved and all that was necessary was for the perpetrators to be detained following the service.  Accordingly, he and I would sit at the back of the church, Hopkins would be stationed close to the side door, and Lestrade had a place in the choir so as to guard the rear exit.

However, we were greeted by Lestrade, whose hurried arrival from the front of the church put me in mind of the Angel Gabriel, although without the good news the angel brought.

“There is a real baby in the crib,” he said.

“Ah,” Holmes responded, “I hadn’t anticipated that.”  He thought briefly.  “I presume there’s no doubt as to who the baby is?”

“Not from the monogram on the blanket the baby has been wrapped in,” Lestrade replied.

“We’ll have to take him somewhere safe,” I said.

“No, it will be far more dangerous to take him anywhere,” Holmes replied.  “So long as he stays in the church he will be safe.  We shall, however, have to ensure no-one else seeks to remove him.”

“How can we do that, Mr Holmes?” Hopkins asked.  He had arrived shortly after us.

“We shall provide a living crib scene.  That way the baby will be protected and we should still be able to arrest our suspects.”

Holmes beckoned a small choirboy who was trying to do a handstand in the back pew.  Giving him a penny and a rapidly scribbled note he told the boy to run to Baker Street.

“I have instructed Esme to put on her blue dress and hurry down here.  She can be Mary.  Hopkins, you will need to play Joseph.”

“Mr Holmes, I am no actor,” Hopkins protested.

“You need do nothing more than sit to one side of the crib.  Esme will sit on the other side.  Nothing will happen during the service so long as you are there.”

“And afterwards?” I asked.  “They may yet try to abduct the child.”

“Indeed.  Which is why, Watson, you will be there as a shepherd, holding your staff.”

***

Holmes was correct.  Nothing happened during the service.  Esme had arrived, carrying a bag in which Mrs Hudson had hurriedly packed a rolling pin and a small white cushion, which if placed under my arm would look like a lamb from a distance.

However, as soon as the service finished, four men rushed forward to grab the child.  Lestrade leapt out of the choir pew and two of the men turn to run in the opposite direction to draw him away.  He ran after them, followed by the rest of the choir, who caused as much fear as the angels had caused the shepherds, and the two swiftly gave themselves up.

The other two sought to take the child, but Hopkins was ready and delivered an upper cut Holmes would have been proud of to one of them.  Esme wielded the rolling pin and the second sank to his knees in what might have been an act of prayer.

The babe, who had slept peacefully until this point, woke and began to cry.  Since his surrogate parents were otherwise engaged, I picked him up and started to soothe him.

When the child’s rightful parents arrived shortly afterwards, their surprise at having their son returned by a shepherd was only exceeded by their joy at being re-united with him.


	2. Snow

We walked back to 221B through the snow, which must have begun falling at some point during the service.  Lestrade, now without his white cassock, had returned to the Yard with the arrested men; Hopkins had insisted he should accompany Esme to ensure she would make it back safely. 

Holmes and I could have undertaken that task, for woe betide us if anything happened to Mrs Hudson’s housemaid, but Esme had gladly accepted Hopkins’ offer of an escort, and we could hear the low murmur of their voices as they followed behind us.

I had been about to comment to Holmes that it was possible Mrs Hudson might be looking to train a new housemaid at some point in the not too distant future, when my foot must have slipped and I found myself falling.

I landed on my bad leg, and it was all I could do to restrain myself from uttering oaths which would be entirely unsuitable in a young woman’s presence.  Esme and Hopkins hurried over to help, and Hopkins offered me an arm to assist me to stand.

“Give me a moment,” I said.  “Let me get my breath back.”

“I’ll run on,” Esme said, “and let Mrs Hudson know what’s happened.”

“Are you sure, you’ll …” Hopkins began.

“I’ll be quite safe,” she said.  “I still have the rolling pin.  And it will give the doctor a chance to say what he’s thinking.”

As soon as Esme was out of earshot I did as she suggested.  Holmes and Hopkins then helped me up, and I continued the journey.  Hopkins suggested I could lean on him, but I had my stick, and my pride ensured I would manage by myself.

The walk, which had been rather pleasant when we had been watching the snowflakes falling around us, had rather lost its charm, as the snowflakes now found their way inside the collar of my coat.  I could not walk fast either, and we were all three feeling chilled by the time we reached our destination.

Mrs Hudson greeted us with the news there was hot coffee made and also some hot punch.  “I’ve also warmed through some sausage rolls in case you wanted something to eat,” she said, “as well as a few of Esme’s mince pies.”  The latter remark was addressed to Hopkins, who I was delighted to see blushed slightly.

She called Billy to relieve us of our hats and coats and shake the snow off outside.  I made my way upstairs and was delighted to see the fire was blazing merrily.  Glancing out of the window I saw the snow starting to settle quite quickly.  I pointed this out to Hopkins, and suggested it would be wise if he left at once if he wished to make it home.

“It does seem a shame to miss out on the mince pies,” Holmes said.  “And really I would think it wiser to stay the night on our sofa.  Even if the train gets you part way home, you will not find a cab for the rest of the journey and you will have a long tramp in difficult conditions.”

“If you are sure it will not inconvenience you too much, Mr Holmes, Doctor, then I would be delighted to accept,” Hopkins replied.

I hastened to add my approval to Holmes’ suggestion and we settled down to enjoy our supper.  The warmth helped ease the pain from my leg and when I looked out of my bedroom window later I smiled at seeing the familiar London landscape lying peacefully under its white blanket.


	3. The Fireplace

When I woke the following morning, it was to see more snow had fallen overnight.  A few intrepid delivery men were making their way down the street, their horses stepping carefully, their light carts apparently not causing them too much trouble.  In addition, there were a number of small boys who were running round throwing snowballs at each other and every so often tumbling into the snow.  They were soon back on their feet again with the resilience of the young.  I resolved to stay indoors for the day.

Once I had washed and dressed I went down in search of breakfast.  I found Holmes staring thoughtfully out of the window, whilst Hopkins was sitting at the table eating eggs and bacon.

“Ah, good morning, Watson,” Holmes said as I entered the room.  “I had not expected you to be down so early today.  I doubt you intend to move far from the fireside.”

“I do not,” I agreed.  “But it did not seem right to ignore our guest.”

“Please, Doctor,” Hopkins began.  He started to stand, but I motioned him to continue with his breakfast.  “I would not wish you to be inconvenienced by my presence.  I trust you have not suffered too badly from your fall yesterday.”

“You are no inconvenience at all,” I replied.  “I feel a little stiff and sore, but it is nothing which will last for very long.  It is, however, sufficient reminder to me to stay indoors today.”

“And I have just the job to keep you occupied whilst you warm yourself before the fire,” Holmes said, leaping away from the window and scooping up a pile of papers.

“And which you may tell me all about once I have begun my own breakfast,” I said.  “I shall just call down to Mrs Hudson to ask her to bring some up.”

I went to lean over the banister to make my request, but as usual she had already anticipated what it would be, for before I could speak she said, “One egg or two for you, Doctor?”

I few minutes later Esme brought up the tray, with some fresh coffee.  Having given me my breakfast, she refilled Hopkins’ coffee cup and asked him if he would like some more toast.

“Thank you very much,” Hopkins said.  “Yes, please.  If it won’t be too much trouble.”

“It will be no trouble at all,” she replied.

I waited until Esme had left before turning to Holmes, for I wasn’t sure I could conceal my smile if I caught his eye.  “And what do you plan to do whilst I peruse your newspapers?” I asked when it was safe to do so.

“Hopkins and I have some people to visit.  We may have caught those immediately involved with the kidnapping yesterday, but the network goes much wider, and I believe the cracks are beginning to show.”

“Don’t keep Hopkins with you for too long, or he will have trouble getting home today.  The snow may have finally ceased, but it won’t have been cleared by this evening.”

Holmes sighed.  “You may well have a point.  Unless,” he turned to Hopkins, “would you consider a second night on our sofa?  You could send a telegram to the housekeeper in case she was concerned about your absence.”

At that moment we heard Esme’s tread on the stairs.  Hopkins smiled and said, “I’d be happy to stay a second night if that would be of assistance to you, Mr Holmes.”

“Excellent!” Holmes replied.  “I’ll explain to Watson what I’m after while you eat your toast and then we can be off.  We should be able to meet back by the fireside by mid-afternoon to review our progress.”

 


	4. The Season for Giving

By the time Holmes returned that afternoon I had compiled a large collection of personal advertisements and minor news items which I had snipped from the newspapers he had left me with in the morning.  Although he had spotted an initial pattern with the messages which had been contained within them, I thought even he would be surprised at quite how much there was.

It had taken me the better part of the day to find and sort the items.  I had continued through lunch, much to Mrs Hudson’s disgust, as I had eaten with one hand whilst sorting through the papers with the other.  She had warned me about the dangers of ingesting the newsprint, but I had responded by saying I doubt it would have much affect at my time of life.  Her parting remark had been to the effect that it was probably one of the less dangerous activities Holmes had drawn me into.

I heard the sound of Holmes and Hopkins coming up stairs and I hastily finished labelling the different piles of cuttings.  To my surprise, Holmes entered the room by himself.

I looked.  “Where’s Hopkins?” I began to say, but Holmes put his finger to his lips and shut the door, before quietly re-opening it.

We heard Hopkins saying somewhat awkwardly, “I saw this, and I thought it was rather pretty, and thought you might like it.”

I couldn’t hear any reply, but Holmes, whose hearing is sharper than mine, nodded.

Then we heard Esme say, “I hope …”

We heard no more, because Mrs Hudson chose to bring the tea things up at that point.  She entered, and looked sternly at both of us, before saying “Really, gentlemen!”  However, I noticed she didn’t close the door either.

Hopkins then came upstairs and smiled happily at all three of us.

“Tea, Inspector?” Mrs Hudson asked.

He made no reply, which caused Holmes to say sharply, “Hopkins!  Mrs Hudson wants to know whether you want some tea.”

“What?”  Hopkins started.  “Oh, oh, I’m very sorry Mrs Hudson.  I’d love some tea please.  Yes, yes, that would be very kind of you.  Very kind indeed.”

Mrs Hudson placed a cup of tea beside him, and told him firmly to drink it before it grew cold.

She then returned downstairs and Holmes launched into an account of what they had achieved that day.  To give him his due, Hopkins contributed to our discussion, although occasionally I noticed him glancing at something which he removed from his pocket and then quietly replaced.

Once we had exchanged all our information, Holmes lit his pipe and sank into his familiar thoughtful pose.  Hopkins, too, looked deep in thought, again glancing at what was in his jacket pocket and smiling.  After a few moments I excused myself and went to my own room.

After about twenty minutes Holmes knocked on my bedroom door and came in.  “Would you be up for a brief excursion?” he asked.  “We shall go by cab, and I can ensure you do not slip between cab and destination.”

“But what about Hopkins?”

“I have given him a task which will suit him much better, being one for a younger man than either you or I.”

“In which case, I think I could do with a change of scenery,” I replied.

Once in the cab, Holmes asked if all was well.

“Oh yes,” I replied.  “Just sometimes a memory catches me unaware.”

“I thought as much.  It would appear Esme has given Hopkins an embroidered handkerchief, as no doubt Mary gave to you.”

“And I still keep them in a corner of the drawer, just as I still keep her in a corner of my heart.”  I laughed.  “If I included that in one of my tales you would have every right to call me a romantic.”

“Maybe,” Holmes agreed.  “But far better to keep love than anger and greed and hatred.  Although considerably less profitable for a consulting detective!”

“Indeed.  So, tell me what we are about to do.”

 

 


	5. Charades

“How are you at charades?” Holmes asked.

This was not a question I had expected, but nevertheless I said, “I wouldn’t willingly choose to partner myself.”

“Capital, Watson.  I like a man who knows his limits.  Even so, I imagine you could give a convincing performance as someone whose lungs are poor, and who is having severe difficulties breathing?”

“Yes,” I replied, “although it would not be easy to guess – there could be any number of causes which resulted in such behaviour.”

“Indeed, and a competent doctor, summoned to attend to you, would make certain standard enquiries?”

“Yes.”  I was puzzled, but Holmes clearly had a plan.

“Excellent.  We’re going to a club.  Then, when I give you the nod, perform your charade.  The rest should follow naturally.”

We arrived at our destination.  Holmes asked the cabbie if he could assist me into the club, and between him and the doorkeeper I was helped to a seat.  I was not a member, but my muttered “My friend will be joining me soon,” was readily accepted, and I settled down to wait.

It did not surprise me when Holmes appeared shortly afterwards that he was in the guise of a club servant.  He nodded to me, and I duly began to cough and hold my chest.  I am not certain the performance was sufficiently convincing to fool a medical man, but Holmes appeared satisfied.  He hurried off and soon returned with a gentleman who he was urgently telling of my plight.

Somewhat reluctantly, I felt, the gentleman came over to speak to me.  His companion, who had followed behind him, also seemed ill at ease.  The reason why became rather clearer when the apparent doctor tried to examine me.  It might have made more sense had I been suffering from appendicitis.

I protested loudly and the man backed away from me rapidly, before he and his companion rushed out of the club entrance door.

“Quick,” I shouted to Holmes.  “You should follow them.”

“No need, my dear fellow,” Holmes replied.  “I anticipated this reaction and have arranged for a watcher to be stationed outside.  He will summon help.  If you are ready, we may return to Baker Street.”

***

It was about an hour later when Hopkins once more joined us.  He told Holmes both men had been arrested and charged as part of the kidnapping gang.

“Were you there?” I asked.  “I didn’t see you.”

Holmes chuckled.  “I told you Hopkins had a role more suited to a younger man.  Once again, Watson, you saw but did not observe.  Or perhaps you didn’t even notice the courting couple near the club door?”

“Yes, I did.  But I didn’t think it appropriate to look at them.”  A thought slowly dawned on me.  “Hopkins, was that you and Esme?”

Hopkins smiled and nodded.

“But you were kissing her.”  I glared at him.  “How dare you take advantage of her in that way?”

Hopkins stood up straight.  “Doctor Watson, I can assure you, that was no charade!”

 


End file.
